


Ho, Ho, Ho, Etc.

by cridecoeur



Series: Meaning and Depth [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Holidays, M/M, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-28
Updated: 2012-01-28
Packaged: 2017-10-30 05:49:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/328435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cridecoeur/pseuds/cridecoeur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Tess said, to his first choice.</p><p>“What?” Nicholas said, he would admit, somewhat defensively.</p><p>“That’s a <i>sweater</i>,” she said, “are you seriously going to buy Peter a sweater?”</p><p>“He gets cold,” Nicholas said.</p><p>“He also gets <i>horny</i>,” Tess said, and then barreled on even though Nicholas hissed, “Tess!” and a woman passing by gave them a horrified look and steered her children away from them - Nicholas flushed, mortified, “But you’re not buying him sex toys.” She seemed to consider this for a moment, and then added, “Actually that’d probably be a way better gift.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ho, Ho, Ho, Etc.

**Author's Note:**

> This is somehow the only story I managed to work Claudia into, even though she has a major starring role in the prequel. Also I like her better than the other supporting characters. Go figure. Also, the only reason I know about _Swappeez_ is because of Facebook's always humorous ad algorithms, and I pretty much had to give them to Peter. If you don't know what they are you should google them. I think it will enhance your reading experience significantly.

Nicholas, as everyone knew, was a terrible gift giver, which was embarrassing for a man of 28 to say, especially one who could afford to give at least _moderately_ extravagant gifts - he did not lack funding, but according to Tess, he did lack taste. Somehow, every year, he was wrangled into shopping with her, despite the fact that she was a terrifying and ruthless shopper and enjoyed criticizing every one of his choices. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she said, to his first choice.

“What?” Nicholas said, he would admit, somewhat defensively.

“That’s a _sweater_ ,” she said, “are you seriously going to buy Peter a sweater?”

“He gets cold,” Nicholas said.

“He also gets _horny_ ,” Tess said, and then barreled on even though Nicholas hissed, “Tess!” and a woman passing by gave them a horrified look and steered her children away from them - Nicholas flushed, mortified, “But you’re not buying him sex toys.” She seemed to consider this for a moment, and then added, “Actually that’d probably be a way better gift.”

“I’m not buying him - “ Nicholas said, and then cut him off as a man in business casual passed by the row in which they stood.

“Yeah, yeah, because you’re a prude,” Tess said, “I know. But I’m seriously not going to let you buy Peter a fucking _sweater_.”

Nicholas sighed, and, because he hardly wanted to start an argument with Tess in the middle of Neiman Marcus, put back the sweater. “Well, then,” he said, “what do _you_ suggest.”

Tess crossed her arms and looked around the store. “Come on,” she said, “we’re going to look at cologne,” and Nicholas blinked in surprise.

“How is that any better than buying him a sweater?” he said.

“Because cologne says, ‘At least I remembered you’re _male_ ,’” Tess said, “Whereas that sweater says, ‘I think you might be transexual.’“

“Good lord,” Nicholas said, but followed her, anyways.

The counter behind which the cologne was kept practically twinkled. Not simply because there was tinsel on it, although that certainly did not help. No, the store seemed to have set up the lighting in this particular section so that it would most effectively glint off the glass bottles - the set-up was somewhat showy, and Nicholas imagined that no matter what he picked from behind the counter, it would undoubtedly be overpriced. 

Judging by the smile the sales girl gave him when he and Tess approached the counter, she also knew that anything he could possibly pick would be overpriced. And also that he was there under duress. Perhaps she thought that Tess’ presence alone would make him fold. Which honestly only made him more determined to _not_ buy cologne for Peter, if only to be contrary, which he was willing to admit did not reflect well on his maturity at the moment. 

“Can I help you with anything?” the sales assistant said - her name tag proclaimed her to be a Candy, which honestly only made Nicholas embarrassed on her behalf.

“Yeah,” Tess said, “my friend’s a loser who doesn’t know how to shop,” and Candy blinked, surprised, but recovered herself well.

“Well, then,” she said, “let’s see what we can find. We have a new scent by Justin Bieber that’s become quite popular. A little more… refined than his last attempt,” which wasn’t difficult, Nicholas thought, being as the last one had involved dog tags. The fact that Nicholas _knew_ the last attempt had involved dog tags spoke greatly of Peter’s influence upon him.

Tess stared at the assistant for a moment and then turned to Nicholas. “Yeah, okay,” she said, “Maybe cologne’s not a good idea.”

#

While Nicholas first mistake had been shopping with Tess, his second mistake had most certainly been drinking with Claudia, while Peter was away, visiting his half-sister, Flip. Nicholas had nearly elevated not learning from his past mistakes, when it came to his friends, to the level of a lifestyle choice.

“A Christmas gift,” she said. “Huh.” Then she tipped her head back and stared up at the ceiling of her apartment, along which ran a hairline crack that had concerned Nicholas from the first time he saw it. “I got Tess a sweater.” Nicholas stared at her, then looked down at the shot glass in his hand - he felt as if he had two choices: tell Claudia about Tess’ aversion to sweaters or take shots until it didn’t matter.

He took the shot; Tess had earned having to pretend she loved sweaters, which she would have to do if for no other reason than that it was Claudia who had bought it for her.

“I’m sure it’s wonderful,” Nicholas said, “But Peter has terrible taste in clothing. I refuse to contribute to his wardrobe,” which was close enough to true that Nicholas did not feel guilty saying it. Peter _did_ , in fact, have atrocious taste in clothing - in most things that he wore, in fact, being that his shoes were no better and what jewelry he wore was… well, usually bought by Nicholas while we was drunk and watching QVC, which meant it was even worse than his clothing and shoes, together.

“Huh,” Claudia said, then she reached for the Vodka bottle and poured them both another shot, knocking hers back quickly. They’d progressed from admittedly foolish drinking games to simply getting ungodly drunk without pretense. That was usually how their nights together progressed. “We should look online. There’s got to be something.”

Which somehow led to Nicholas ordering 3 pairs of _Swappeez_ \- which was particularly unnecessary, given their nature - and 10 different accessorizing buckles. When he awoke the next morning on Claudia’s floor - Claudia, herself, had apparently fallen asleep in the tub, though God only knew why or how it had happened - he was overcome by… well, nausea first and foremost and the need to _never drink Vodka again_ but then horror at what exactly he’d done. That being, spending well over $100 on _girl’s sandals_ for his _boy_ friend. Not that Peter wouldn’t wear them - Peter still wore the utterly hideous Barbara Bixby doublet enhancer that Nicholas had once drunkenly ordered him, with complete disregard for the fact that he did not own a _doublet_. But Nicholas wanted no part in that eventuality. 

“My god,” he said, staring up at the ceiling, and then his stomach rebelled and he had to stagger to the bathroom to throw up, which was how he discovered that Claudia was in the tub, in the first place.

“Oh, Jesus,” she said, apparently woken by his retching. When she pulled herself upright with a white-knuckled grip on the side of the tub, she looked particularly green.

“I’m never drinking with you again,” Nicholas said, which was what he said every morning after he drank with her - his resolve never seemed to last. Then he threw up some more. Claudia looked as if she’d rather like to throw up as well. 

“I’m never drinking again, period,” she said, a vow which almost certainly would not outlast the next weekend, when all four of them, Nicholas and Peter, Tess and Claudia, went to _He’s Not Here_ for the… pleasure of Donovan and Vasya’s company as well as the siren call of watching Peter make a fool of himself on the dance floor. Peter was many things, but a capable dancer was not one of them, despite his protestations to the contrary. 

Seeming to sense Nicholas’ disbelief, Claudia added, “I mean it, this time. Vodka and I are no longer speaking. I’m going to cross to the other side of the street when I see it coming and like never return its calls and delete all the texts it sends me.”

“You’re wearing that metaphor thin,” Nicholas said and then threw up some more. 

#

More unfortunate than the drinking games and subsequent drunkenness with Claudia was the fact that Nicholas had, in said drunkenness, addressed the _Swappeez_ package to Peter, and that Peter was the one at home when the package arrived, so Nicholas could not even hide it and pretend he’d never ordered it in the first place. Instead, he came home from the clinic, after a day of administering flu shots to likely already flu-ridden children, to find Peter sitting on the floor with a box open in front of him, holding a pair of Swappeez in his hands, looking bemused.

“Good lord,” Nicholas said, before he could stop himself, and Peter looked up at him, confusion sliding easily into amusement when he caught the look on Nicholas’ face. 

“Oh my gosh,” he said and then started giggling, “you were _so_ drinking with Claudia again.”

“Yes,” Nicholas admitted, somewhat reluctantly.

“Someone should, like, take the internet away from you,” Peter said. He looked down at the _Swappeez_ in his hands and then pulled out a bag of accessorizing buckles from inside the box. His grin only grew wider. “These are actually pretty cool.”

“Good lord,” Nicholas said, rubbing one hand across his eyes, “You’re _not_ wearing those.”

“Oh my gosh, you can’t tell me what to do,” Peter said, “you bought them for me, they’re mine, I’m wearing them _forever_.”

Nicholas looked at him, somewhat despairingly. “I’m not having sex with you,” he said. “Possibly ever.”

“Liar,” Peter said and then pulled the sandals on, wiggling his toes. The fact that Nicholas felt vague stirrings of attraction even at that likely proved Peter correct. Peter looked up at Nicholas through his eyelashes. 

“C’mere,” he said, and Nicholas found himself obeying, without thought. Peter reached up with one hand, pulling Nicholas down to kiss him. “You are so terrible at this.”

Nicholas blinked down at him. “Excuse me?” he said, feeling as if he should be offended, but not yet certain of the reason.

“You were trying to buy me a Christmas present, don’t even lie.” He kissed Nicholas, again, and then again, as if he could not help himself. “Seriously, just buy me like a box of fudge. A big box.” 

Nicholas blinked at him, again. “You want fudge for Christmas.” To Nicholas that seemed … somewhat banal.

“I like fudge,” Peter said shrugging, and Nicholas thought suddenly, of that day on the boardwalk, Peter taking his hand and shrugging, saying, _I’m mostly going to put out for you_. He smiled.

“Well, then,” he said. “Fudge it is.”


End file.
